An Almost-Summer Day

(Its late February and its already Almost-Summer in Chennai. That's all everyone's talking about these days. This very transient short phase of Almost-Summer, immediately before summer as the city gears up for its famous summers, have always been one of my favourite times of the year. Like all years, its different and unique this time too... a few thoughts on that.)

On an Almost-Summer day in February,

Still unready to give up its mild hues.

The sky fights the sun for its blueness,
While after few months of mellow trickery,

like the devil, the sun reveals its round head.

The air is heavy with sighs,

displeased at being shaken awake from a November stupor.

The seconds tediously move, stumbling in a pre-summer inertia,

towards the all extinguishing heart of heat.

On an Almost-Summer day in Chennai,

The flower vendors reluctantly take off their ear muffs,

Pashmina shop vendors dejectedly tally accounts,

Green watermelons begin to bounce the roads,

(their redness still an unspilt secret)

Street dogs begin to wander out from their cosy warm spots

and roam the roads in search of shade,

as cucumber vendors begin to spruce up their push carts.

On an alarmingly early Almost-Summer day,

Old men and women cluck their tongues

and shake their heads wisely.

Younger men and women look around in a surprised air,

and think about their pigeon nest air conditioners.

Children, least perturbed, are only bewildered

by the sudden onslaught of sunscreen.

Strangers at a bus stop catch each other's eye,

as they rush to the only shady spot, and give sad smiles,

"So we meet here again".

On an Almost-Summer day of life

when the whole world seems suspended,

in a sea of timelessness and waiting,

Being neither here nor there, and too languorous to move,

In the rising heat,

I think of you, and await an eternal summer.